Gemotions

He stared at the book, his book, now bearing another name. "The Art of War" was now credited to "J. Montgomery". He felt a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to hurl the book across the room. He resisted, but the urge lingered, a dark and unwelcome guest.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost violent. He felt a cold rage building in his chest. His work, his dedication, his years of study—all erased. All gone. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

He felt the frustration boiling over. He needed to be alone. He walked to the window and stared out at the street below, seeing nothing but the injustice that had been done. He needed to make a call. Right now.